Optimist
by Death's Daughter
Summary: RemusSirius. Sirius always was an optimist.


Sirius Black's optimism had been something that, while they were at school, had been something that had been a bit or an annoyance, but also a comfort.

In the last few years of Sirius' life, however, it had just broken Remus' heart.

Just after Remus stopped teaching at Hogwarts, he found Sirius hiding out in one of the small fishing villages along the coast of Greece. He'd been living in a small, abandoned and rather smelly shack up on a cliff that didn't look like it belonged in Greece. It looked like Sirius had just taken a chunk off the edge of Cornwall and pasted it onto the other country.

The other man had been overjoyed to see Remus, tugging him inside the shack and pushing him down on what Remus assumed had once been a chair, smiling and fussing and saying he _would_ offer tea, but he hadn't been able to snaffle any teabags from the back of the local shop, but there was a lot of water, would he like some water?

"I'm fine, thanks." Remus had said, forcing his lips into a smile. He took in Sirius, who was standing in front of him, fidgeting slightly – from both excitement and nerves – looking both hopeful and delighted, like a puppy. Remus let out a sigh. "Oh Sirius, look at you..."

Sirius obliged, looking down at his tatty clothes and skinny form, and he gave a little chuckle.

"Oh, well, it's not _that_ bad," He said, grinning slightly. "I mean, in some ways Azkaban was good for me! I always said I was going to get a tattoo one day and now I've got lots...not that I'd necessarily have chosen these ones myself, I'd always fancied having a wolf or something, but considering I was given them by force they're not that bad." He shrugged somewhat. "And, y'know, I'm not such a picky eater any more – I bet if someone placed a plate of lasagne in front of me now I'd inhale it and ask for more! And I've discovered the nutrient value of rats – which are kind of satisfying to eat, in a rather morbid way – and now I live here I can indulge my passion for fish!"

"Sirius..."

"And, y'know, I hear dreadlocks are in nowadays!" He tugged at his matted hair somewhat ruefully. "Although I have to say I never liked them, but then, I was in dire need of a haircut before I even got arrested anyway. James always said I looked like a pansy with long hair..." Sirius trailed off and his smile faltered for a second. "Any...any news about Harry?"

"Harry's fine." Remus said, trying to keep his voice from shaking. He wanted to cry, to scream at the unfairness of it all.

Sirius let out a relieved sigh and smiled again, this one smaller, but slightly more real.

"Good...I knew he would be...Goodgood..."

And then he started fussing over Remus again, offering to run out and see if he could try and nab some chocolate for him or some chips or something, because he knew that Remus wasn't overly fond of fish and what kind of host would he be if he offered his guest rats for dinner?

All the while Remus just sat there, trying to ignore the sorrow that was tearing him apart inside.

-

Remus had left the shack the next day, giving Sirius a crushing hug which seemed to surprise the other man, and leaving abruptly, not looking back until he was too far away to see the smile on Sirius' face that was at odds with the stark pain in his eyes.

-

Remus hadn't seen Sirius again until 12 Grimmauld Place had been made Order headquarters. He'd even moved in there for a while, ostensibly to help make the place habitable for its more permanent tenants, but actually to see how Sirius was doing.

Sirius had greeted him in the same way that he had when Remus had turned up at his shack, smiling and babbling and fussing and generally being excited.

But he never once touched Remus.

It took Remus about a week to realise what had happened.

Sirius, while willing to seek out his company – alright, while following him around like a loyal little puppy-dog – and being quite satisfied to curl up somewhere nearby to Remus, would not touch him because he remembered how Remus had been like when they first started Hogwarts – Never touching or hugging or anything unless he himself initiated it, and he only did so when he felt it was really needed, like when he was so happy he thought he'd burst if he didn't hug someone, or when one of the others was so miserable that he _had_ to do something...

Sirius, it appeared, seemed to think that Remus had forgotten all about the relationship they had tentatively been settling into before...well, before. Remus felt that that needed to be fixed right away.

He hugged Sirius again one night before they were about to climb into their separate beds in their shared room – one of the few habitable ones in the house – and Sirius froze. Remus could feel the other man's eyes bugging out, but didn't relax his hold until Sirius relaxed, and then the hug turned into a gentle embrace.

He pressed a chaste kiss on the top of Sirius' head, and Sirius pressed a sloppy one on the side of Remus' neck, but the sentiment stood.

-

When Remus stopped living at Grimmauld Place, Sirius went very withdrawn for a while, and every time Remus or Dumbledore or anyone else ((with the exception of Snape)) walked into the house, he would look at them, hopeful, and ask if, perhaps, there was a mission _he_ could go on for the Order? Perhaps some recon in the jungle? Or a stake-out in some dirty back-alley where Padfoot would not be noticed? Hell, Remus had thought, he'd be overjoyed if he was just asked to nip down to the corner shop and buy some custard creams and a pint of milk.

Of course, the answer was always no. Sirius' face never fell outwardly. He would just shrug and smile and say,

"Oh well, maybe next time, eh?"

while his eyes closed off and Remus would have to bite his lip to resist the urge to ask him to run out and get a paper for him or something equally stupid, just so he didn't feel so...left out.

-

Sirius wouldn't kiss Remus on the mouth any more, Remus noted. Whenever Remus tried, Sirius would turn his head and Remus would end up kissing his cheek, or ear, or shoulder or his hair. Or he would duck under the kiss and blow and raspberry against Remus' neck before laughing merrily and dancing off.

Remus had an inkling that the Dementors had put that fear into him – who wouldn't be afraid to kiss someone if they'd spent twelve years of their life with the knowledge that the next kiss they got would likely be their last?

The only time Remus was able to capture Sirius' mouth was when they were twined together, in Sirius' bed, writhing and thrusting and trembling, tumbling, falling, grasping, gasping and Remus would kiss Sirius hard and Sirius would hold him with more strength than it looked like he possessed, as though by pulling him against him, he would pull them together into one and his soul would be safe.

-

Azkaban had wrought more changes upon Sirius than that, though. He never 'topped' any more, for one thing, not even from the bottom as he had been wont to do when they were younger, the bossy thing that he had been.

Had been. What horrid words.

He never initiated anything either, leaving everything to Remus' discretion. Remus longed for the days when Sirius would just fling himself down on his lap and say something as glib as,

"Let's shag now, 'kay?"

The way Sirius' face lit up when Remus touched him though, almost made it worthwhile.

-

Then he'd died.

The only word that could even come close to describing what Remus went through was 'agony'.

Sirius hadn't deserved this. None of them had.

Well, except maybe Peter, but Remus didn't want to think about him, because whenever he did he got so angry he ended up vomiting.

The worst part was that Remus could just imagine what Sirius would say.

"Nice to know my soul's as pretty as the rest of me!"

"I'll put in a good word for you with the big guy, okay? Maybe he'll let us share a room!"

"Don't worry about me, I'll just have kinky threesome sex with James and Lily to keep myself in shape until you get here."

"Sing with me now – If I get to heaven, before you do, I'll dig a little hole, and spit on you!"

It was the worst of ironies that the two people he'd known who'd loved life the most, who had tried to look on the bright side of everything and took everything as it came, were now part of the 'living impaired'. And he, Remus, who had lived his life vicariously through characters in books and the antics of his friends, was still alive.

If being an optimist meant that you died young, and suffered horribly while you were alive, why oh why couldn't Sirius have been a pessimist like him?

...Because then he wouldn't have been Sirius. That was the only answer.

Bloody optimists.


End file.
